










^«* "^j^ A* ♦•a^M^^* vSi- <». * 



^'■^ 



A^^^^ 
V ^ 



'' * j-^"^ "^^ 



^o^ 







■^^ C^ .^J^>. '^o .-J^^ ^ 







r^sfe" 






4 



LAXE GEORGE 



AND- 



ITS SURROUNDINGS, 



BOTH OLD AND NEW. 



EST US..S.A. "W. BE-A.-5rT03Sr. 



WM 5 1085 



GLENS FALLS, N, 

KEPUBLICAN". PRINT, 98 GLEN STREET, 

1885, 



t 



.P'\ 



«t.' 



Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1885, by 

Asa W. Brayton, in the office of the Librarian 

of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



LAKE GEORGE 

AND ITS SURROUNDINGS-BOTH OLD AND NEW, 



BY ASA W. BRAYTON. 



One Dr. Guildes, with many smiles, 

Came out in search of rest; 
He found a spot and bought a lot, 

Then built himself a nest. 

Not far away from Kattskill bay 
The Doctor made a choice — 

To make his bed and lay his head, 
While many friends rejoice. 

A pleasant spot not soon forgot 

By gentlemen of taste; 
When they pass by 'twill take their eye, 

Should they be in a haste. 

The bullheads here, in water clear, 

Are a delicious fish; 
The bass and trout, without a doubt. 

Will crown the doctor's dish- 



'Tis splendid deeds, to troll the weeds, 

And pull the noble fish; 
And better, too— that's when we do 

Meet them in our own dish, 

The " Swago'' bass, upon the grass, 

Or on the rocky shoal, 
Your line will strand— if in your hand - 

Unless they're on a pole. 

Ma.y joy attend our welcome friend 

While in his new careers. 
Then on his trail when he may sail 

Or drift to other spheres. 

We welcome more unto our shore 

Who have a noble heart 
Like Dr. Guilde, to fish awhile 

And then with joy depart. 

Our " silver lake" j^our love will take. 

Fanned by the mountain air; 
The roses. Miss, your cheeks will kiss. 

If you in time get there. 

Come, old and young, of every tongue. 

And make Lake George your bride: 
No better spot to cast your lot 

Than by its rolling tide. 



The gentle breeze that fans the trees 

Will sail your boat so nice 
To other shores — then pull the oars 

To lovely " Paradise.'' 

This lovely l)ay, both night and day. 

Is fronted by an isle; 
Her bosom smooth the heart will soothe 

And breathe a sailor's smile. 

This eastern stack is " Mountain Black,"' 

And of the forest wild; 
The fallow deer were always here— 

We caught them when a child. 

Now turn your breast unto the west 

And view the " Kettle Rock," 
Where ladies red ground corn for bread 

To feed their little flock. 

We pass '• Round Rock " for Butler's dock- 
It stands on ' ' Popple Point " ; 

'Tis nice and clean, as all have seen. 
With nothing out of joint. 

One autumn day, for sport or play, 
My mate went up the hill. 

And with one hound drove three deer down- 
Large bucks, which we did kill. 



Those mountains great seem desolate 

Unto the stranger's eye; 
Still there's a vase, by nature's grace, 

To scent the passer by. 

The scenery grand, o'er lake and strand, 
Far as the eyes can stray; 

Then view with awe what Nature's law- 
Hath planted here to sta,j. 

The female deer comes often here 

With two fawns by her side 
In spotted coats,— we take some notes. 

Then draw their forms with pride. 

Ladies, attend, — go with a friend 

Upon those mountains high, 
To breathe a share of God's pure air 

While it is passing by. 

We do intend soon to descend 

Two thousand feet, or more. 
And leave this vase of Nature's grace 

For Horicon's fair shore. 

We'll start our crew down the " Long Sue,'' 

And call on "Mother Bunch "; 
We caught four deer, and brought them here. 

Before we took our lunch. 



One Samuel P. and Henry B. 

Caught this whole number — four, 
While one nice deer, with timid fear. 

Slipped off along the shore. 

A busy time for boys in prime— 

No time to be a dunce— 
From " Rouse's Rock " came this whole flock. 

Five in the lake at once. 

We leave our grace here on this place 

And sail to " Hulett's Bay"; 
Those pioneers were once my dears ,^ 

Long since they've gone to stay. 

With Hulett Harv. no one would starve, 

The mother kind and free, 
And four good boys to crown the joys 

Of every one they see. 

Near " Odell's Isle " we stopped awhile- 
One week was all the time; 

Nine deer we caught and home we brought 
When I was in my prime. 

We'll give our names— one, Ripley, James 

And Henry Harris, two, 
And Asa B., this writer, three. 

Was all our little crew. 



A trip we'll take across the lake. 

Where the French army lay 
O'er Sabbath day, to preach and pray. 

And then the}* marched away. 

This land of fame derived its name 

From this same circumstance; 
They prayed the Lord to them reward 

Wherever they advanced. 

Their wicked deed made good hearts bleed. 

Where lives a burning pain; 
While at the fort, for blood or si)ort. 

The garrison were slain. 

Three days of strife for dear, sweet life 

At William Henry's fort, 
Where cannon roar and human gore 

Were naught but savage sport. 

Then to their cost saw all was lost. 

And they must soon give o'er. 
No help at all to save the fall 

Of all their little store. 

The bitter cup surrendered up, 
And stacked their shattered arms; 

Montcalm agreed to give them heed 
So no one should be liarmed. 



9 



Demons from hell, with savage yell. 

And tomahawk in hand. 
And scalping knife to take the life 

Of all this valiant band. 

But seven stout who gave not out. 

On magic pinions sailed; 
To Edward's fort they did rej^ort. 

And told the bitter tale 

When twenty years rolled off with fears, 

Burgoyne came sweeping by; 
"With Indian bands and treach'rous hands 

Jennie McCrea did die. 

The murmuring spring witnessed the thinj 

Just at the break of day; 
An Indian blow laid Jennie low. 

Then bore her scalp away. 

Then tied at last to "' Pine" tree fast. 

They buried in her head 
The tomahawk, so people talk. 

And scalped e'er she was dead. 

The great pine tree, we used to see. 

Stood sentinel so true; 
For many j' ears was bathed in tears 

Fresh as the morning dew. 



10 



Beneath this pine, in olden time, 

A lovely, blooming maid 
By Indian bands and savage hands 

In death's cold arms was laid. 

One hundred years, both sighs and tears 
Have marked this sacred spot; 

This tree of fame bore Jennie's name. 
So she was not forgot. 

Jennie McCrea was on her way 

To be a soldier's bride; 
Her lover true, with much ado, 

Soon pined away and died. 

Her lover wrote, and sent a note. 

To one in high command. 
To send her down unto his town 

By some good faithful band. 

He did obey— sent her away. 

With Indians for her guide 
To her befriend and to attend; 

On horseback she did ride. 

Now they have gone way down the lawn 

Unto Fort Edward hill, 
Tliere met a band who did demand 

Miss Jennie, or tliev'd kill. 



11 



The money prize, before their eyes, 
Was what they wished to claim, 

But the first crew the maiden slew, 
To beat them in their game. 

The General told he'd pay the gold 

Whenever Jennie come, 
To those who brought her, as they ought, 

Unto his cabin home. 

Now Jennie's love we prize above 

A victory in the field. 
Which heroes great leave desolate, 

Though won with burnished steel. 

The human heart still feels the smart, 

And blushes at the crime; 
This cruel deed — the people heed — 

Can never waste with time. 

In this retreat here lovers meet 
And their sweet tributes bring, 

And much they grieve — none to receive — 
They leave them with the " spring." 

We trust our race to keep this place 

As faithful stewards, tried: 
A sacred spot, not soon forgot. 
Where love and beaut v died. 



12 



The •• spring" will tell where Jennie fell 

When ages roll away : 
"Will tell the truth to blooming youth. 
And to the aged gray. 

Hail, lovely " spring,'' our tributes bring 

Your waters clear and cool, 
Without the shade the pine tree made 

By Nature's living pool. 

Near Sandy Hill, as people tell. 

Her ashes now remain. 
Near to the gate, as friends do state. 

Lie buried on tJie ]ilain. 

The marble stone tells every one. 

Instead of being wed. 
Where she has been, and now lies in 

The city of the dead. 

Farewell, we say, to Jane McCrea, 

We treat her as a guest; 
A burning pain in hearts remain 

While Jennie is at rest. 

We just ran down Fort Edward mound 

To hear those bitter moans : 
Now we'll turn back upon our track 

And look after the bones. 



i:^ 



When you come here just drop a tear. 

And think upon the slain; 
Here on the beach their bones did bleacli. 

All scattered o'er the plain. 

From Horicon to " Bloody Pond " 

The massacre was made; 
When all the gore drained from each pore. 

'Twas then the slaughter staj'ed. 

This bloody crew ere long withdrew 

And went to old Quebec; 
On Abraham's plain Montcalm was slain 

In time to save his neck. 

In Wolfe's command, we understand. 

A soldier did obey. 
And fired a shot, in battle hot. 

Which laid him in the clay. 

It may be so, for aught we know. 

Upon the other side. 
For Wolfe was shot, forget it not. 

And in the morning died. 

Those generals bold, as we've been told. 

Between their armies walked. 
And there agreed each should proceed— 

The soldiei's heard them talk. 



14 



Wolfe should leave out his cannon stout, 

Montcalm his cavalry, 
The battle fight to gain the right. 

And be the victor free. 

Both meant to cheat, to help them beat, 
And bring in their whole force; 

The troopers came, which was their game — 
Wolfe's cannon spoke, of course. 

Wolfe took the town with high renown 

Of country far and near; 
Pages sublime have marked the time, 

And laurels, as we hear. 

We'll change our route and turn about, 

And dine at old " Ti Fort,'' 
Where Johnny Bull gave all in full 

To Ethan Allen's couii;. 

The Bull exclaimed, ''In whose great name, 

I wish to know the cause?" 
" By the great God and Allen's rod. 

And Continental laws." 

Then Johnny sighed, and soon replied : 

" I'm at your great command." 
" Surrender all," was Allen's call. 

In language great and grand. 



15 



A savage crew did once pursue 

One Rogers to " The Slide "; 
He took a leap down to the deep 

With much heroic pride. 

The Redskins gazed — were much amazed 

To see the General fly — 
They fired a gun as Rogers run ; 

He bid the fiends "good by."" 

Next comes *' The Nose,"" wliere high wind 
"Tis formed by Nature's art — [blows — 

Her echoes plain upon the main 
With every sound will start. 

We'll start our ship, and on our trip 

We'll call on Reuben Brad.; 
His " House," complete, and kept so neat. 

Makes Reub. a thrifty lad. 

One hundred Isles do catch the smiles 

Of thousands not asleep; 
With love they gaze, and much do praise 

These beauties of the deep. 

We leave this shore for " Sagamore"; 

It stands on Bolton ground, 
And is M?iY Queen of all we've seen 

In going Lake George round. 



IG 



We leave the Queen on " Island Green.*' 

And drift towards the sun, 
And stop all day in " Middle Bay " 

To see what Squaws have done. 

Near to the head, in rocky bed. 

Their relics still remain; 
Their genius, skill, built many mill 

To grind their bags of grain. 

'Tis nice to view those mills so true, 

Though very simple all. 
Where ladies red gi'ound corn for bread 

To feed their children small. 

Those mills were old as Aaron's gold; 

Their birthday is unknown. 
Still they my last while ages pass — 

The3^*re made of granite stone. 

Lake George's name stands high with fame 

For water and pure air; 
Her dainty fish will crown our dish. 

And thousands stopping there. 

In times of old. as we've been told. 

The Indian name went on 
From year to year, w^ithout a fear — 

'Twas lovelv " Honcon." 



i: 



In after years came doubts and fears. 

For the Frenchmen had come, 
And they were bent on " Sacrament," 

And took its waters home. 

Some later da3^ by English sway. 

When war did them inflame. 
Lake George," they said, our love hath wed, 

And that shall be its name. 

Columbia's boys, who reap the joj's 
, Of fields their fathers won, 
Now make the claim to change the name 
Unto '' Lake Washington." 

The lake was won by Washington, 

And is his honest claim: 
From all the true it is his due 

To change it to his name. 

We hail the cars from Helen Mars, 
Or from some other port. 

Soon after dawn — eight in the morn- 
Near to King George's fort. 

The boat is here for you, my dear. 

To take you o'er the tide; 
You can afford to step on l)oard 

And take a pleasant ride. 



18 



A happy day will pass away 
While steaming through the lake. 

For Nature's chart hangs here with art, 
From it new lessons take. 

Then cast your eye up to the sky 
And view the mountain's peak; 

What mighty power hath raised this tower 
No mortal tongue can^^speak. 

There's much to see, for you and me. 

Of things both new and old ; 
Then gather gems from Nature's stems 

As jewels set in gold. 

You'll soon be proud, j^our casket crowd 

With relics by your hand. 
And tlien you may bear them away 

Unto your native land. 

When you reach •• Ti" you'll say good bye 

To scenes you leave behind, 
And take the cars for the north stars 

New^ pleasures for to find. 

About nineteen, as we have seen, 

The " Phoenix " on the lake, — 
The first steamboat that here did float, — 

Her lazy trips did make. 



19 



The " Phoenix '" lay, at close of day,. 

Tied to the dock, we hear, 
And tiien the flame burnt up her name, 

AVhich ended her career. 

The " Mountaineer" did next appear. 

And she was very slow; 
" William Caldwell" did better tell, 

As every one doth know. 

And then "John Jay '" got in the way, 

And she was better still. 
But soon was burnt near to " Cook's Point, 

And some few persons killed. 

One lady drowned and never found. 

The husband being round, 
She took a leap into the deep 

And took five thousand down. 

The boats did play both night and day. 

And dragged the bottom o'er, 
But all in vain, they did complain, — 

Saw wife and cash no more. 

The John Jay run, three years were done. 

As faithful as a bride. 
Some days tw^o trips — she made no skips 

When Captain Farr did guide. 



20 



Minnehaha,"* name of a squaw. 

For many years went through, 
And made good time, when in her prime,— 

And the " Ganouskie," too. 

Now runs the " Ti." as eagles fly: 

The " Horicon" is boss, 
And makes her rounds, like Cooper's hounds, 

Or some three-minute '' hoss.*" 

The hotels grand, upon the strand. 

Where many guests do stay. 
And thousands more upon the shore. 

In cottages so gay. 

The steamers, proud of such a crowd 

As they take through the lake 
Of aged gray and ladies gay. 

Their pleasant trips do take. 

In starry night, with Luna In-ight. 

The little steamers run 
From Caldwell shore to Sagamore. 

For pleasure ijarties' fun. 

Ladies of wealtli improve their health 

Upon the lake, we've seen. 
In skirt's at play, rowing away, 

iM-esh as the first May Queen. 



21 



In youth's gay time, while in my ])rime. 

I sailed upon its tide: 
I kissed her shrine, and love entwined. 

And long dwelt by lier side. 

The lake we leave, but much do grieve 

To bid her scenes adieu, 
No more to greet her pleasures sweet. 

Her beauties growing new. 

Now we have come to my '' sweet home, 
Although 'tis somewhat rude, 

Still we give rest to every guest. 
And dwell in quietude. 

Fifty-six years I drove the steers. 

And plowed this little place; 
If one lacked bread, 'twas often said. 

They called on Uncle Ase. 

Now. my dear friend. I did intend 

To make a truthful case: 
If aught is wrong in all this song. 

Please call on Uncle A^e. 



3477-155 
Lot d9 






V . < • o. 



^. 



■». 






ov:. 










v7?r^"'V .. V'^'V^' ,.„ -f 















^q. 



